


Everything Changes, Everything Ends

by Jae Gecko (jaegecko), Minna Leigh (minnaleigh)



Series: The Good Wife duology [1]
Category: Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Canon Backstory, Canon Related, Canon Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-19
Updated: 2010-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-13 19:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaegecko/pseuds/Jae%20Gecko, https://archiveofourown.org/users/minnaleigh/pseuds/Minna%20Leigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kalinda and Donna, from beginning to end, and all the months in between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Changes, Everything Ends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Angearia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angearia/gifts).



> The final scene in this story precedes "[Chaser](http://archiveofourown.org/works/141078)" by four months.

The bar was loud for a Wednesday night. Visiting businessmen crowded out the regulars, and the speakers pounded out a steady drumbeat despite the lack of a dance floor. Kalinda kept one eye on the door, but her head was down, and her hands were busy with the straw in her vodka sour. The trick was not to look like she was waiting. Not to be too eager.

She spotted Donna in the doorway, but didn't turn toward her. Donna's suit was a navy pinstripe, and her hair was loose around her shoulders. She looked good. Sharper than Kalinda had remembered, and bolder.

"Sorry I'm late," Donna said, scurrying over to Kalinda and claiming the next stool. She laid her briefcase flat on the bar and propped her elbow against it. "Florrick's got all hands on deck on this capital murder trial. I was at my desk by seven this morning, and boy, am I beat."

"It's okay. I'm glad you could make it."

Donna caught the bartender's attention with a finger in the air. "I'll have a gin and tonic." He nodded, and she swiveled around toward Kalinda, their knees almost touching. "So level with me, okay? What are we doing here?"

"You got someplace you'd rather be?" Kalinda let her mouth inch up at one corner.

Donna shrugged. "Just wondering what might make an old work friend call me up out of the blue like that."

Kalinda inched a little closer, and now their knees actually were touching. She leaned in. "Oh, you know," she said. "It's been a while."

Donna's eyes dropped to the place where their knees met, and then bounced back up. "You know Florrick would have my job if he knew I was here with you. You're the black sheep of our nice little office family now."

Kalinda raised an eyebrow. "You didn't have to call me back." She traced the curve of the chrome across the bar and stopped just short of Donna's hand.

"I guess I didn't." The bartender set her drink on the bar, and she acknowledged it with a nod. "But here we are, so come on, out with it. What do you want?"

"What makes you think I want something?"

Donna's laugh was loose and full in response. "We worked together for three years, Kalinda. You always want something."

Kalinda pursed her lips against her straw and took a sip. It was this new job. She still had to prove herself, and to do that, she had to make use of the resources she still had access to. She might be _persona non grata_ at the state's attorney's office now, but Donna had always treated her like a friend, and maybe even a little bit more.

Kalinda swirled her glass, the ice tinkling. "The Jonathan Farmer case."

For a brief moment, Donna's face clouded over with confusion. Then her eyes widened a little. "The identity theft?"

"So the state's attorney's office does admit there was a crime there."

"Of course there was a crime there. We just can't get a conviction."

"And that's why you're declining to prosecute." It was a question, but Kalinda said it casually, like she was making conversation.

Donna opened her mouth into an O, and then it spread into a grin. "You need to know the details. On behalf of your fancy new firm."

If she'd guessed, there was no use pretending otherwise. Kalinda shrugged. "Yeah."

"You want me to tell you why Florrick backed away from prosecuting, so your guys can decide whether to file a civil suit?" She let out a laugh that was more like a scoff. "You really must have burned _all_ your bridges at the top, if you're coming to me."

Kalinda's head lifted and her jaw tightened with the same tension that had plagued her six months ago, when she'd walked out of the state's attorney's office with the contents of her desk in her arms. Donna hadn't been in that day to see it. It was the main reason Kalinda could still call her. "Don't sell yourself short. You're easily one of the smartest people in that place."

Donna's expression melted into a curious little smile. Seeing the opening, Kalinda dropped her hand to her lap and then inched it over to Donna's knee. Donna looked down at Kalinda's hand there, but she didn't move away.

Donna cleared her throat. "Turns out the victim's got a record."

Kalinda shook her head. "He can't. Diane Lockhart's handling this one herself. She's not that careless."

"It's all under an alias."

That was rich. Kalinda smirked. "An identity theft victim with an alias?"

"I know, right? Farmer's definitely the guy's real name, but he's had at least two others that we know of. His rap sheet's all small-time white-collar stuff, but there's no way it wouldn't come out in court." She took a drink. "You can't make a jury feel sorry for a victim of identity theft when he's done that or worse to other people."

"Hm." Kalinda was definitely going to have to recommend Diane dump this one. "Okay." She downed the rest of her vodka sour without breaking eye contact with Donna, and when she put her glass back down, their hands were touching.

Donna was holding her breath, and she spread her hand flat against the bar, as if to steady herself. Her eyes traveled between the hand on her knee and the one pressed up against hers on the bar.

Kalinda withdrew both hands. "Good to know." She unzipped her jacket pocket and slapped a ten on the bar. "I guess we won't want to take him on."

A crease spread across Donna's forehead. "So, this is how this works?" There's a wobble in her voice—barely audible, but it's there. "I feed you information, you finish your drink, and that's it? Not even a thank you?"

For a long moment, Kalinda just stared at her. Donna's eyes were a pale, watery green, and she looked a little lost.

Kalinda stood. "Come on."

Kalinda tilted her head over toward the back door that led downstairs, and she stepped over to it with long, brisk strides. As if mesmerized, Donna followed suit.

The music faded as the door swung shut behind them, and their footsteps reverberated against the walls as they stepped into the concrete stairwell. Kalinda turned around, and Donna was right in front of her. Their eyes locked, and Donna stumbled a step back against the wall, her breathing shallow. Kalinda took a step toward her.

"I'm sorry, but I—" Donna flushed a deep red, from her nose to her ears. "I must have given you the wrong impression. I'm not—I don't date women."

"Is that what we're doing?" Kalinda leaned in closer, so close that she could feel Donna's shuddery breath on her cheek. "Dating?"

Donna froze. She was the deer and Kalinda's eyes were the headlights. With an outstretched finger, Kalinda traced a path from Donna's cheek to the base of her throat. Slowly, she inched it lower, down to the gap where her blouse met her skin. Donna swallowed. Her lips were parted.

Kalinda felt a jolt of electricity as their mouths met. And then Donna was kissing her back, and Kalinda leaned in, her body pinning Donna's to the wall. Her hands danced along Donna's hips as their tongues intermingled, and she hooked her thumb around the waistband of Donna's skirt. Kalinda could feel her shivering, like she could come unhinged at any moment.

When Kalinda pulled back, Donna was gasping. Kalinda lifted a finger and pressed it to Donna's lower lip. "How's that for a thank you?"

Donna's eyes were wide, her mouth open, her chest heaving. She didn't respond.

Kalinda unzipped her pocket and pressed a crisp, new Stern Lockhart business card into Donna's hand, closing her fingers around it. "Call me."

She pushed the door open again and crossed the room, making a beeline for the street. The cold air stung her face, but she couldn't stop smiling.

#

Kalinda turned sideways and looked up the beach, shielding her eyes against the sun's reflection on the lake. To her left, the lights of the city were sparkling, and a few teenagers were splashing around in the water that still had to be far too cold for swimming. The hippie types on the boardwalk had gotten out their guitars now, and they were belting out a tune that was just off-key enough to be unrecognizable.

Donna let out a yelp, and Kalinda turned to face her. Donna was standing in the water up to mid-calf, her long, flowing skirt hoisted up into a knot at her hip. Kalinda smiled. Donna could have joined either the hippies or the teenagers, without looking one bit out of place.

"Come on in, the water's fine!" Donna beckoned to Kalinda with a finger, but her arms were folded around her chest and she was shivering.

"I'll watch, thanks," Kalinda called out. It had been warm for about two weeks now, more like early summer than spring, but not long ago this part of the lake had been frozen.

Donna waded over toward Kalinda with long, wide steps. "Wow." She tossed her head back, shaking her hair across her shoulders, and drew in a deep, theatrical breath. "Okay, close your eyes."

Kalinda shook her head. "Close my—"

Donna threw her arms out to both sides. "Just do it!" she insisted, and Kalinda let her eyes fall shut. "Now breathe in," Donna called out.

Kalinda inhaled a long breath.

"Tell me what you smell."

"Hmm. Rotting fish, fresh asphalt—"

Donna let out a groan of frustration and came charging at her from the water. She tackled her, one cold hand on each of Kalinda's shoulders, and knocked her to one side. "That's _fresh air_ , silly. Just what hardy northern girls like us need after being cooped up all winter."

Kalinda smirked, but Donna was already crouching to brush her feet off. Kalinda watched her teeter precariously in her crouch and took a couple of steps away.

Donna slipped her feet into her shoes. "You've got to get out of the Loop more. This city is dulling your senses."

If anything, the city was even more in evidence here than when you were in the thick of it. You could keep watch over the whole beach from one of the office towers that loomed above them. "This beach does have a great view," Kalinda admitted.

"There you go." Donna flashed her a big smile. "How many years have you lived in this city? And you've never even been here?"

Kalinda shrugged and started to walk. The sand gripped the heel of her boot, and she wriggled it back out. "When I think of the beach, I think of North Ave."

"And that's not exactly your scene, I bet." Donna matched Kalinda's stride and cocked her head at her.

Kalinda slid her hands into her pockets. "I guess I'm more of a downtown bar kind of girl." She raised an eyebrow. "Although not the kind of downtown bar girl our former boss prefers."

Donna's laugh caught in her throat. "Please, can we agree not to talk about that for one night? I swear, that's all anybody's been on about this week."

"You can't call me the black sheep of the state's attorney's office anymore." Kalinda couldn't suppress a smile.

"Ha!" Donna barked. "Damn right about that. After this week, you can claim having been fired by Peter Florrick as a badge of honor." She slipped an arm through Kalinda's.

Kalinda stiffened at the touch, and her smile hardened. She glanced around automatically, checking for the wayward glances of strangers, and gently withdrew her arm.

Donna kept walking, but her forehead creased. She hugged her arms to her chest. Kalinda tried a little smile and walked a little closer, their shoulders almost touching. On cue, Donna relaxed again.

Donna stopped walking and looked out at the water. "You know, I can't help but feel completely at peace when I'm here," she said, slipping her jacket off. She spread it on the ground as a makeshift blanket. "It's less crowded than North Ave. or Oak Street, but it's close enough to downtown that you can still pop over here on your lunch hour if you need a moment of quiet." She lowered herself to the sand, looked up at Kalinda, and patted the ground next to her. "Come on. It's not dirt."

Kalinda raised an eyebrow, sizing up the situation. What the hell. She squatted down, shifting awkwardly to one side, and finally eased herself to the ground. She pressed her shoulder against Donna's, and the back of her knee against the cool, damp sand. They fell into a comfortable silence. The night was crowding out the day, and by now she could make out not only vague city lights in the lake, but also the ripple-distorted outlines of the W hotel and a couple of trendy condo buildings along Lakeshore Drive.

She'd known Donna almost four full years, but the strange protectiveness she felt toward her dated back almost to day one. Florrick had yelled at Donna in front of everyone that first week, and she had just looked down at the floor and taken it. Her humiliation had been written all over her face as Florrick had walked away. Nobody ever discovered how that virus had made its way onto his computer after that, but it had proved too tenacious for the IT department, and in the end they'd had to throw it out and build him a new system from scratch.

"You know what?" Donna was smiling, but her eyes betrayed her embarrassment. "A part of me still can't believe I'm here with a woman."

Kalinda shrugged. "You're here with _me._ "

"I mean, I've never thought of myself as a lesbian. I've never even looked at women like that. But, you know, here we are." She bit her lip nervously and glanced away. "Although I guess it wouldn't be hard to find a dozen straight women who'd turn gay for you." She turned back toward Kalinda. "You know what I mean, though, right? I can't help but rethink my past in light of..." She waved a hand in the air between them. "This. Us."

Kalinda pressed her lips together. Rewriting the past only made it tougher to leave it behind.

"Like, when I went ballistic on my best friend in high school because she was dating some asshole who didn't deserve her—was it because I was secretly hoping she would grab me and have her way with me?" Donna traced an absent squiggle in the sand.

A coy little smile danced across Kalinda's lips. "I don't know, did you go after the boyfriend with an AK-47?"

"It's just—maybe this is why I've never been able to find the right guy? Because all along, I've been a lesbian and I never even knew what to call it?"

Lesbian. Investigator. Daughter. They were all just words. Kalinda sucked in her cheeks. "Why do you have to call it something? Why can't it just be...what it is?"

Donna stared down at the sand. "I guess it just makes me wonder, that's all. Because...I don't know. I mean, if I _am_ a lesbian, doesn't that mean I've wasted all those years? Pretending to be someone I wasn't?"

Kalinda flinched. "Maybe you weren't pretending. Maybe you were _changing._ "

Donna looked up at Kalinda. Her eyes narrowed a little, as if trying to puzzle something out.

"Listen." Kalinda glanced back at the main stretch of the beach. The teenagers were busy emptying their last beers, and the hippies were packing up to go home. She grabbed Donna's hands and cupped them between hers. " _You_ get to decide who you are. That's not determined by who you take moonlit walks on the beach with, or where you come from, or who your parents were or...anything. That's _your_ call."

Donna tried on a smile, but it was a tight smile that only made her look more vulnerable. She was so smart and so fierce, but it was buried under so many layers of all the things that had beaten her down.

Kalinda's protectiveness was back in a surge of emotion, and when it subsided, it left something else in its wake. It was something bigger than the attraction between them, something bigger than any favor Donna could do for her. Kalinda drew in a breath and held it, but the feeling didn't subside. She wanted to kiss Donna, right here and now, in front of the hippies and the teenagers and everybody.

Kalinda's hands jerked back, and she stumbled to her feet. She looked away, brushing the sand off her skirt and taking a swipe at her boots. "Come on." Kalinda offered Donna a hand to help her up, but she didn't meet her eyes. "Our reservation's at 8:30."

#

The air in Donna's apartment was thick with Indian spices: cumin and coriander and fennel and a few Kalinda couldn't make out. It all smelled a little too much like a big dining room and manners that had been drummed into her like a mantra.

"Wait, wait, don't look yet!" Donna sauntered into the room with a big tray and an even bigger grin.

Kalinda smiled a little and looked deliberately at the wall. "I'm looking away."

There was a clink against the stone coffee table, then another, and then another. Then came the strike of a match, and a whiff of smoke joined the spices. "Okay, you can look now."

She'd placed two dinner plates on the table, and silverware, and bright red cloth napkins. A third dinner plate was covered with a metal bowl to keep whatever was beneath it warm.

"Wow," Kalinda said, craning her neck to admire the spread. "What's under door number one? Can I peek?"

"Allow me."

Donna lifted the bowl with a flourish of her hand, revealing a serving dish with a light brown curry on one side and white rice on the other. Behind the serving dish was a wine bottle on a coaster, and three candles in glass candleholders had been lined up along the back of the table. Pride radiated from Donna's face, ten times brighter than the light from the candles.

"You'll have to tell me if it's right, and be honest," Donna ordered. "This is my first time trying my hand at Indian food. That's chicken korma," she said, pointing. "And basmati rice. And the wine is a California chardonnay."

The rare times Kalinda's mother had cooked, they'd eaten at a big wooden dining table, not a coffee table in the living room. There had been no pleasing her father, though, even with a surprise meal with all the trimmings. Kalinda shook her head. "I don't know what to say."

"Okay, you look a little...overwhelmed." Donna's face creased. "It's too much. Is it the candles?" She reached out to cup a hand around one, and leaned in to blow it out. "Here, let me—"

"I like candles." Kalinda laid a hand on her arm.

Donna bit her lip, smiling again. She sat down on the couch next to Kalinda.

Kalinda leaned her head back against the couch, meeting Donna's eyes. She ran a hand down Donna's face, cupping it around her cheek. She leaned in, letting their lips touch. "Thank you. It's great."

The familiar ring of Kalinda's Blackberry sounded on the end table next to Donna. Without even looking, Donna picked it up and held it up to her ear. "Yeah?"

Shock shot through Kalinda. That was her work number. That was probably Diane, or Will, or maybe Alicia. She reached for it.

Donna's eyes traveled over to Kalinda. "Hold on." She passed it over.

Kalinda grabbed it away. "Hello?"

"Hi, it's Alicia. I'm returning your call, who was that?"

Someone who had some explaining to do. "Donna."

Donna's mouth turned up in a smug little smile. The shock froze into icy anger in Kalinda's veins. Kalinda stood, turned away, and stalked across the room into the kitchen.

Pressing her lips together, she forced her mind onto work. "Look, I found out something about your juror number eleven, Calvin Tober," she said into the phone. She craned her neck around the corner and found Donna rearranging the candles. "I was talking to the super in his building, and he let me into his apartment."

"Why would he let you into his apartment?"

"You really want to know?" Donna looked up at her and smiled. Kalinda turned back around.

"No."

The kitchen towel on the oven handle crumpled under Kalinda's grip. "Here's the thing. Tober's bank account. He just deposited twenty thousand dollars in cash. I think we have our bribed juror."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and then a sigh. "Okay. Thanks. I'll get right on it." The line went dead.

Kalinda's nails dug further into the towel. If the personal questions didn't start tomorrow, they would start soon.

Kalinda stalked back into the room. Donna was sitting there as though nothing was wrong. "Was that Florrick's wife?" she asked innocently.

"Okay, what the hell, Donna?" Kalinda spat.

Genuine surprise flooded her face. "Wait. You didn't—"

"This is my phone." She waved it in the air.

"Right, and you were all the way down at the other end—"

"It's still _my_ phone."

Donna rolled her eyes. "God, Kalinda, it's just a phone. It's not like I was rummaging through your underwear drawer."

"You don't get to draw that line," Kalinda said through clenched teeth. "You don't get to decide what's private and what's not when it comes to my stuff. I get to decide that."

Donna raised a hand in the air. "Okay. The cell phone is off limits. I got ya."

"That was _work_." She shouldn't have had to explain this. "It's none of their business what I do in my off hours."

There was a flash of hot anger in Donna's eyes. "It's none of their business who you do it with, you mean."

"That, too."

Their eyes locked. Donna's mouth pinched into a pout. Kalinda kept staring.

"Okay, just so that we're clear." Kalinda sat back down next to Donna, her back rigid as a pole. "Don't answer my phone. Not if I'm at the other end of the couch, not if I'm in the other room, not if I'm in the shower, not if I'm _dead_. Don't answer my phone. Ever."

"Okay." Donna's eyes dropped to the napkin in her lap. She fiddled with it, twisting it around her finger. "I'm sorry."

"Good."

The ticking of the living room clock grew louder, as if expanding to fill the silence. Donna kept her eyes on her lap. Kalinda's feet felt twitchy, like she wanted to leave.

No, like she wanted to _run._

"Why don't we ever stay at your place?" Donna asked suddenly.

If Donna was going to answer her cell phone, who knew what she'd end up getting into in Kalinda's apartment. "Your place is nice."

"Your place must be nice, too."

"You think?" Kalinda's tone was level.

"I can't imagine that it wouldn't be. Not that I've seen it." She looked up to meet Kalinda's eyes. "Don't you think that's kind of funny? We're going on nine months now, and I've never even seen the inside of your apartment?"

At this point, Donna wasn't going to see the inside of Kalinda's apartment until after the next snowball fight in hell.

"Is that what you're hiding?" Donna inched closer to Kalinda on the couch, a hand on her arm. "You're a secret slob?"

This was not funny. This was not cute. Kalinda pulled her arm away.

"You're mad."

Kalinda tightened her grip around her phone.

"I'm sorry."

Kalinda didn't look up.

Donna shook her head. "My God, I _said_ I wouldn't answer your phone again!"

She hadn't said that. Kalinda sighed. This wasn't going anywhere. "Okay," Kalinda said, with a clip of finality.

"Yeah?" There was a faint hint of hope in Donna's voice.

Kalinda rolled her eyes.

Donna held up a hand. "Okay, okay. You don't want to talk about it anymore. I get it." No, she didn't. "You'll eat something, though, right?”

Without waiting for an answer, Donna started dishing out food. Watching her, Kalinda slid her phone into her jacket pocket and zipped it shut.

#

There was no answer at Donna's apartment. Kalinda rang the bell again, waited, and then peered in through the peephole. It was dark.

She had a key now. Donna had given it to her one weekend morning after a particularly long and memorable night. In case she ever needed Kalinda to water the plants, she'd said. Kalinda had never seen any plants in Donna's apartment, but she'd taken the key anyway.

Kalinda dug around in her inner jacket pocket for the key and let herself in. The lights were out, and it was so dark she couldn't see. "Hello?" She flicked on the overhead light in the entryway, casting shadows into the living room. "Donna?"

She stepped inside. Donna was sitting on the edge of the couch, in the dark, staring out the window.

"What's going on?" Kalinda asked.

Donna looked up at her, and even in the half-light, Kalinda could see that her eyes were red from crying. "So, who's Tony?" she said in a small voice.

Kalinda's heart jumped. "He's...a cop," she said carefully. It could have been worse. It could have been Lana.

"How do you know him?" Donna's voice was disconcertingly even.

"We've worked on a couple of cases together." She took a step toward Donna. "Where did you hear—"

"Janet. From the office."

Kalinda's mouth pinched into a grimace. Janet was one of the other ASAs, a tall, weaselly woman who gossiped like a junior high school cheerleader. Donna was always friendly to her, though. She was friendly to everyone.

"She happened to see you two all cozied up in a bar and brought it up this afternoon when she got tired of talking about people who still work there. She's seen him around and knows his name is Tony." A dark look crossed her face. "I wasn't spying on you, if that's what you're thinking."

"That's not what I was thinking."

"Have you slept with him?" Donna's voice rumbled, a low boil.

"No," Kalinda said gently. She took another step toward Donna. "Of course not."

"Well, you've obviously gone out with him. Janet can be a bitch, but she doesn't lie. And I don’t even need to ask whether you've been flirting with him—you flirt with anything that moves. Have you kissed him?"

Kalinda swallowed. This was what they called a gotcha moment. Usually she was on the other side of them.

"My God." Donna shook her head.

"It's not what you're thinking."

"Yeah? What is it, then?" Donna snapped. "Enlighten me."

"Donna, Tony Burton is—he's _work_."

"Work." Donna's laugh was raw and mean. "This keeps getting better and better. Am I work, too?"

"We met at work."

"That's not what I'm asking, Kalinda Sharma, and you _damn_ well know it!" Donna's voice came out in a shriek.

Kalinda clenched twin fists inside the pockets of her jacket. She shut her eyes. She pushed a long breath out through her teeth.

"I don't even know what I'm mad about," Donna said, her voice breaking, and Kalinda opened her eyes. Donna was staring out the window again. "I mean, it's not like you've ever promised me you wouldn't see other people. I don't even know what I am to you, anyway. Am I your girlfriend? Am I somebody whose job makes her useful, and who also happens to be good enough in bed to bother with?"

Kalinda's heart lurched. She didn't know what Donna was to her, either. She walked over and sat down next to Donna on the couch.

Donna turned toward her, her eyes red. Her face crumpled. "Just—forget I said anything, okay? You didn't cheat on me. You can't break a promise you never made."

"I'm sorry." Kalinda's voice was quiet.

A sob choked from Donna's throat. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Look, sometimes Tony knows things. Things Diane and Will want me to find out. And then I have to get him to tell me about them." Kalinda grabbed her hands and pressed them between her own. "But that's all it is. I swear."

Donna gave a quick little nod and put on a brave face.

Kalinda could stand to blow Tony off. It wouldn't be easy, but it wouldn't be the end of the world. She sucked in a breath. "Hey. If you don't want me to go out with him anymore, I won't."

"I don't want you to go out with him anymore," Donna said without missing a beat.

"Okay." Kalinda held up a hand. "Done."

Another tear trickled down the side of Donna's face and into the corner of her mouth. Kalinda leaned in and kissed the spot where it had disappeared. Donna blinked and turned her head, and then their lips met for real.

As she pulled back, Kalinda was smiling. Donna bit her lip, but the anguish peeled away from her face, and behind it was her own smile. Donna's soft hand traced a path down Kalinda's cheek to the nape of her neck.

Donna dropped her hand and flopped down against the back of the couch. "God, _why_ can't I stay mad at you? What is wrong with me?"

Relieved, Kalinda let her head fall on Donna's shoulder. She watched Donna's chest moving up and down with breath, ever slower as calm descended over the room. The darkness wrapped around them like a blanket. Their fingers intertwined and came to rest on Donna's stomach.

"Hey, I meant to tell you," Donna said suddenly. "The city has a job opening for a public defender."

Kalinda blinked. She lifted her head to look at Donna. "I'm not a lawyer."

"For me, Kalinda. I got a call. They want me to apply. Pretty cool, huh?"

"And you're seriously thinking about it?" Kalinda shook her head.

"Sure, why not?"

Kalinda sat back up and withdrew her hand from Donna's. "Well, there's the ten thousand dollar a year pay cut you'd have to take. And the fact that you'd end up spending your workday defending criminals who are no better than the ones we see at Lockhart and Gardner, except that they wouldn't even have the money to pay you what you're worth."

Donna groaned. "God, you are such a _downer_. For you, the glass isn't half empty, it's half full of _antifreeze._ " She narrowed her eyes at Kalinda. "Oh, don't even tell me." She pulled back. "You don't want me to quit the state's attorney's office because I wouldn't be any use to you as a public defender."

"No. I—" Kalinda sighed. "That's not it. Really."

Donna's face twisted into a scowl.

Kalinda turned to face her. She grabbed hold of her hands again. "It's just—you're so _talented_. If you're bored at the state's attorney's office, fine, but don't hold yourself back because you don't think you're good enough to make the big time. If you want, you can be a partner at a big downtown firm by the time you're forty."

Donna sniffed. "You're dreaming."

"I'm _not_ ," Kalinda insisted, a note of frustration creeping into her voice. It didn't matter how many compliments Donna got on her work, or how far up the food chain they came from. She never saw that _she_ was the reason for her all her victories.

"Kalinda, open your eyes. Lawyers are a dime a dozen in this town right now. Your own firm might fold. And the state's attorney is always the bad guy, you know? This week I sent a woman to prison because she robbed a convenience store to feed her kids. I'm sick of it."

Kalinda shook her head. "Fine. But at least think about looking for something at a firm, then. You're too good to be a public defender."

"Yeah, well." Donna's eyes dropped. She slipped her hands from between Kalinda's. "If I listened to Janet, I'd be deciding I was too good for a lot of things."

Kalinda's stomach turned over. She steadied herself with a hand on the couch cushion, but she'd driven onto this slippery highway with her eyes wide open, and now the car was spinning out of control.

 _Run,_ the voice in the back of her mind urged. _Run._

#

"Hey, Kalinda, you got a sec?" Alicia motioned to Kalinda through the glass wall of her office.

Kalinda stopped in Alicia's doorway. "Yeah?"

"Did you have a chance to talk to your friend at the FBI about Jack Arkin?"

Kalinda smirked. "Okay, so you really were still asleep when we talked on the phone this morning."

"We talked on the phone this morning?" Alicia pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's right, we did."

"Anyway, I'm still having lunch with Lana at noon, so that gives me—" She glanced at her watch. "—forty-five minutes before I'm late on that one."

Alicia groaned. "I'm sorry, things are a mess at home. Peter's planning this big press conference, and there are all these strangers running in and out of the apartment all the time, and the kids—"

"Is he going to announce that he's running again?"

Alicia looked up at her with a weary smile.

Kalinda raised an eyebrow. "Really. And there's going to be a press conference."

"That's what they tell me." Alicia picked up a file and shifted it to the pile on the corner of her desk.

Kalinda stepped inside and placed both hands on Alicia's desk, leaning over. "And you're going to stay far, far away from this one, right?"

Alicia met her eyes with a sigh. "No, I'm going to stand next to him and smile and pretend I don't mind that the press is going to be spending yet another year and a half rummaging through our private lives."

She was letting herself get roped in to this again. Kalinda's mouth pinched at the edges. "You know what that's going to remind everyone of, right?"

Alicia shook her head. "Please, don't even go there."

"Alicia." Kalinda sat down in the chair opposite Alicia's desk.

"What."

"He's controlling you."

Alicia rolled her eyes. "He asked me to stand next to him at a press conference, not put on a burka."

"He asked you to play the long-suffering, yet decorative wife. You don't have to."

"Yes I do, Kalinda." Alicia placed both hands flat on her desk. "He's the father of my children. I do have to." So Alicia hadn't forgiven him, but he still managed to get everything he really needed from her. How very convenient for him.

Kalinda's phone rang, and she tried to maintain her stare as she pulled it out of her pocket. She glanced down at it. Donna's number.

She knew she should let it go through to voicemail, but it had been months since Donna had called her at work. Just that one time, and Kalinda had made her promise it wouldn't happen again. Kalinda shot Alicia a look of apology and held the phone up to her ear. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry for calling you at work."

Kalinda's eyes flickered over to Alicia. Her stony stare had shifted into a look of curiosity. "What's up?" Kalinda said into the phone.

"So, the Northwestern Center on Wrongful Convictions has this big annual charity dinner, right? It's black tie, the works. They hold it at the Hyatt Regency."

"Yeah? So?" Kalinda's tone was clipped. Alicia stood and slipped past Kalinda to the doorway.

"Well, it's on Friday night," Donna continued. "They always like to send one public defender, just to make an appearance, but Fred usually does it, and his father just died, so he's got to fly out to Oregon, and he definitely won't be back by Friday. So they want me to go in his place. Lowest rung on the totem pole and all."

Kalinda shoved her free hand back into her jacket pocket. "Why do I need to know this right now?" Alicia motioned down the hall and mouthed that she would be right back, and Kalinda nodded.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "I—I need to tell them by this afternoon whether it's going to be plus one or not."

"Whether it's going to be..." Plus one meant her. Kalinda turned her back on the doorway.

"I'm really, really sorry for calling you in the middle of the work day. I know you don't like it, but they gave me a deadline."

"Can't we—" Kalinda sighed. She lowered her voice. "Can't we talk about this tonight?"

"They really have to know by this afternoon."

"Donna," Kalinda said through clenched teeth.

"Paul pays for the tickets every year, so it's just a matter of showing up, drinking a couple of free drinks, and eating some rubbery chicken. You won't even have to dance."

Kalinda rubbed at her forehead with a fist. For all she knew, they could still be working on this Jack Arkin thing on Friday night. "Okay, but it's just—we're in the middle of this big case." She lowered her hand to her lap. "I might have to work late."

"Paul needs to know, Kalinda." Her voice was just a shade too loud, like a speaker on overdrive. "He needs to know today."

Right. This was about _Paul_. "Well, we wouldn't want to disappoint Paul."

"Look, if you don't want to do it, just say so." Donna's voice was gruff. "I'll ask a friend or something."

"That might be better." Kalinda put on her most sympathetic tone. "Sorry."

The pause on the other end of the line was long enough that Kalinda thought they might have gotten disconnected. "But I'd—I'd really like to go with you," Donna said finally. There was a catch in her voice.

Kalinda was trapped, like a tropical fish in a little round bowl. _Run!_ the voice in her head sounded, louder than it had been in years. She knew she could do it, too, if it came to that. She could shed Kalinda Sharma like a dead skin, find a new name, a new job, a new city, maybe even a new country. It would be even easier now that she'd learned a few dozen new tricks.

"You still there?"

"Yeah." Kalinda pressed her eyes shut. Maybe it was just one night, instead of the beginning of the end. "Okay, whatever. I'll come."

"Really?" Donna's voice was bright.

"Sure." Alicia was back, standing in the doorway and motioning toward her desk with a thumb. Kalinda nodded. "Look, I've got to go."

"It's gonna be fun, I promise."

"Right." Kalinda pressed the end call button on her phone and shoved it back into her pocket. She let out a breath in a slow trickle, looked up at Alicia, and forced a smile.

Alicia smirked. "Was that the woman who answered your phone that one time? Her name was Donna, right?"

Kalinda swallowed. She didn't respond.

#

"And in a surprise move this evening, disgraced former state's attorney Peter Florrick announced his plans for a political comeback. Florrick hopes to take his old job back from current officeholder Glenn Childs. With his devoted wife Alicia at his side, he spoke passionately about—"

Kalinda flicked the radio off. The knot in her stomach tightened.

The bus lane stretched along the full length of the street in front of the Hyatt, and Kalinda pulled to a stop at the edge of it. She couldn't park here, but the spot offered a clear view of what she was in for. She rolled the window down, the air cold on her bare arms.

Already the couples were arriving, the men in identical black tuxedo uniforms and the women in gowns covering all the colors of the rainbow. Locking arms with their men, checking their hair as they walked up the steps. Kalinda glanced at herself in the rearview mirror. Her makeup was perfect, and she could just see the spaghetti straps of her new red dress. She could have been one of them.

She had been one of them, once, and now here she was again.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kalinda caught sight of Donna. Her hair was piled on top of her head with a few loose wisps on the nape of her neck, and she was wearing a deep green dress Kalinda had never seen before. She was shifting her weight nervously from one leg to the other, looking out toward the river, craning her neck to see down the street. It was strange how easy it always was to overlook a dark blue SUV when it was parked in plain sight.

"Wait. Can you slow down?" The voice came from right next to her car, and then a woman stumbled past Kalinda's car and into view. Her dress was a shimmering, sequined white, and a mane of silky dark hair scattered across her shoulders. "It's these heels, I can't—"

The woman tumbled to the sidewalk, sending her purse skittering across it and over the edge of the curb. "Jesus Christ, Kelly." The guy she was with spat her name like a curse word.

"I'm sorry," the woman said, sniffling. She looked down at her hand. The skin was scraped raw, and there was a bloodstain and a big rip on the front of her dress. Her face contorted into a look of complete despair. "Oh, God. Oh no."

The man handed her the wayward purse, not even trying to disguise the sneer on his face. "Come on. Let's at least find you a bathroom."

Kalinda's blood froze in her veins, and she wrapped her fingers around the wheel like it was the guy's neck. Images flashed through her mind: an Internet video of Alicia in a demure woolen suit, one step behind her cheating husband. Her mother after one of her father's big parties, humiliated and cowering in the shadow of his rage.

 _Run._

"No."

As the word hit her ears, Kalinda didn't recognize the voice as her own. It was her old voice, thin and reedy and weak. "No!" she said quickly, and this time it was lightning on her tongue. This was her life, the only life she'd ever given a damn about. She _was_ Kalinda Sharma now, with every fiber of her being and every molecule in her body. She was done running.

But there were still things that Kalinda Sharma's life was never going to have any room for.

Donna's back was to her now, and Kalinda watched her take her cell phone out of a tiny black purse. Seconds later, Kalinda's own phone rang. Four times, and then it went to voicemail.

Donna paced back and forth as she spoke, from the steps to the streetlight and back again. Her arms were pinned to her sides, and with her free hand, she was weaving her scarf through her fingers. A pinch of pain crowded out the emptiness in Kalinda's chest.

There was a triple beep from Kalinda's phone, and she looked down at it. One new missed call, Donna's number. She tried to swallow, but her throat was like sandpaper. She pressed the 1 key to listen and held the phone up to her ear.

"Hi, it's me. I waited outside for you, but I'm freezing my ass off out here in this skimpy little dress, so I'm going in. If they bug you at the door, just give them my name and I'll come and get you. And...I wanted to say." There was a long pause where all Kalinda could hear were the passing cars, and then Donna sucked in a breath. "I wanted to say that I know this isn't really your kind of thing, and I know I kind of bullied you into it, but I just want to make sure you know that I really...love that you're doing this for me."

Donna's voice was ragged. Kalinda's eyes started to burn.

"It really—it means a lot. Anyway, I guess I'll—I'll see you in a little bit." Click.

Kalinda looked up. Donna was gone.

There was nothing left to do here. Kalinda rolled up the window, and with a shaking hand, she pulled the SUV out of park.

Kalinda flicked the radio back on. The news was over, and Meat Loaf was crooning through some maudlin piano ballad. As she pulled onto the Kennedy expressway, she turned it up so loud that her ears burned and the drums sounded in her head.

It was melodramatic enough to make Donna proud.

She wiped a knuckle against her eye. It left damp streaks of mascara across the back of her hand.


End file.
